Tom Riddle and the Order of the Phoenix
by Pryotra
Summary: AU OotP: Tom Riddle has been possessed by Voldemort for fifty years. With the help of a strange potion he gains a new body. Returning to Hogwarts, he finds that little is the same, and that he will have to choose his allies carefully to defeat Voldemort.
1. Welcome to My Life

_This idea came to me a few days ago while I was working on a math problem. Not the most inspiring story about an idea, but hey, I thought it was fairly good. When I told it to a friend of mine, she was officially freaked out. To her, it was just wrong. So, naturally, I wrote it. _

_Disclaimer: Pryotra doesn't own Harry Potter, or any of it's characters. This disclaimer applies to all chapters._

_Summery: fifth year AU: Tom Riddle has been trapped in his own head by Voldemort for fifty years. Now, with the help a potion, Tom has separated and gained a body of his own. He will now do anything to become strong enough to fight against Voldemort on his own, prophecy or no. He returns to Hogwarts, but what he didn't count on was the intervention of Umbridge, who seems bent on not teaching them anything, Ginny Weasley, who knows there's a connection between Tom and Voldemort,, and a plot to erase the memories of nearly everyone at Hogwarts._

_Couples: Eventual TomHermione HarryLuna RonPansy and DracoGinny_

_Warnings: Blood, violence, sarcasm, and some alcohol._

_No Slash. _

_Rating: T_

_------- _

The most disturbing thing that I have to put up with in the morning is Voldemort's face. That is normally the very first thing I see, since he wakes up earlier then I do. I always want to cry out when I see two glowing red eyes staring back at me along with no distinguishable nose, and skin that looks like someone was crossed with a snake and then hit by a train. Then I remember that it's not my face.

Well, actually it is, but not really.

My name is Tom Riddle, and I am not Lord Voldemort.

I suppose I'm still fifteen, since that was the time when I was originally possessed by him, and I don't feel like I've aged much. Other then, of course, I've been watching things out of Voldemort's eyes for the past fifty or so years. I can't do anything about it. I've tried, trust me. Sometimes if I put enough effort into it, I can restrain his actions for a sort amount of time, but it's only temporary. I can also, if he's sleeping hard enough, take control of a hand for a while. It hasn't happened lately, since I tried to kill myself with my own wand once.

For some reason, he seemed to take it as a threat to his life.

I've only been able to restrain him a few times, that latest was when Potter was making a mad dash for his life back to that portkey with the body of his friend. It hurts after a while, and then I start feeling light headed, so I have to let go. Thankfully (for me) there's nothing that Voldemort can do to kill me. Or at least, he doesn't know anything that can kill me.

There is one single somewhat okay thing about being a prisoner inside of my own mind, and that is that I never get physically tired. I get mentally tired, and I get bored. Voldemort has been able to shut my voice out for quite a while now, so I don't even get to harass him anymore. It's gets boring after the first three years of not being able to do anything. Truthfully, it's enough to drive someone insane, but I don't have time for insanity.

I have a little matter of revenge to take care of.

I suppose that that's where this story starts. One summer morning about a month after Voldemort regenerated. I woke up to his charming face as usual, and would have done something along the lines of blink, rub my eyes and try to pass it off as a bad dream if I had been able to control my body. I'm not really a morning person, and even though I've been living like this for fifty years I'm still groggy in the morning.

Voldemort was pleased with his appearance. I could feel his pleasure at the triumph of having his body back. He had been gloating about it even since he had gotten it, so that was nothing new.

Nagini, his freakishly large snake familiar, had decided to coil up on around the foot of the dresser where the mirror was, and was cooing to him.

No, I mean literally cooing. It's really disturbing to think of, but Nagini seems to have developed some sort of weird attachment to him.

"_Master, Snape has returned to us, and Malfoy is also waiting_," Nagini said after a long series of 'good morning' hisses.

That was interesting. Snape has been spying on Dumbledore for the past who-knows-how-long. There is also a very good change that he might be a spy for Dumbledore. What's funny is that Voldemort knows this, I know this, even Snape knows we know this, but for some reason Voldemort keeps him around. At least it's fun to watch them dance in circles around one another.

Lucius Malfoy was probably Voldemort's perfect Death Eater. He was ambitious, clever, and would stab Voldemort in the back given half a change. The only reason he was even alive was because he had such useful connections. His son is just like him, what I've seen of him. I never caught his name, so I always ended up knowing him as Mini Mal.

"Thank you, Nagini," Voldemort hissed, in English. That snake is that only living creature I have ever heard him say 'thank you' to. I guess if you are part snake already, you might as well be polite to the real ones. Either that or they have some sort of relationship that I don't know about (or what to).

Voldemort looked around the room thoughtfully. It wasn't really much of a room. The grayish wooden walls were rotten and there was a slight draft that came in. The Death Eaters were constantly complaining about it. The floor creaked with every step that Voldemort took and the sheets on the bed were old and torn. He had been living here for about a week. Voldemort usually takes refuge in abandoned houses of his victims. It seems to give him some sort of satisfaction. This house had belonged to the Bones family. It hadn't been lived in for a while, but the Death Eaters had done their best to make it somewhat acceptable to the Dark Lord. That was difficult since the Death Eaters had tried to burn the place.

His eyes traveled to the window. It was late afternoon already, and the setting sun cast long shadows over the wall. Voldemort is mostly nocturnal by habit. It either because he is naturally nocturnal, or it makes him feel like he's living up to some 'evil Dark Lord' image.

I have gotten a little cynical over the years.

He opened the creaking, blackened door and walked down the stairs to his 'meeting room' formerly known as the Bones' sitting room. The portrats that hadn't been burned and didn't seem able to be destroyed in any way hissed insults at him. Good for Voldemort most of their other portraits were in abandoned houses too. They would have told the living people in the houses were Voldemort was immediately. As he passed the kitchen I could hear the sounds of someone, probably Wormtail, trying to make a hangover potion. He's been drinking a lot lately, ever since he lost his hand.

Voldemort ignored the sound. He didn't care if his Death Eaters got drunk, as long as they could still follow orders while they were drunk. In fact, Crabbe and Goyle were actually more useful when they were drunk. They would crash into convenient things and cause more destruction then when they were sober.

He opened the door to the room where Malfoy and Snape was waiting. They were both standing at attention, and bowed low as Voldemort came in. Once he had stopped they kissed the hem of his robe.

"My Lord," they greeted in unison.

"Stand up, Severus, Lucius" Voldemort said in a quite whisper, "what news have you brought me?"

"My Lord, the potions that you spoke of do exist," Snape said.

Potions?

This must have happened while I was sleeping, or maybe Voldemort blocked my awareness again. That happens sometimes, and when it does, I can't remember anything that happened during that time. It hadn't happened recently, so I was slightly surprised that he had done it again. Normally, he didn't even bother. I wasn't like I was going to do anything about his plans.

I guess it just made him feel powerful to do that every so often. Just to prove that he was in control.

"Excellent," Voldemort drawled, "This body is weak and new, and that potion will overcome that problem. How long will they take to brew?"

"I have a sample of each with me, My Lord," Snape kissed up to him wonderfully.

"Good," Voldemort purred, "Show them to me."

"My Lord, I fear that both may have unforeseen side effects…" Snape began.

So he was nervous about something. I wondered what it was.

Voldemort didn't show his annoyance, but his eyes were probably more red then usual. He was silent and waited for Snape to say something else. Snape looked a little bit nervous, but not that nervous.

"My Lord, both potions are unlike anything that I have ever seen. I would not chance to give you the first if there was even a slight chance that something unexpected would happen," Snape told him, "Both potions have the potential to effect different people in different ways. It might prove to be more dangerous then we ever could have thought."

"In what ways?" Malfoy asked curiously. That guy would definitely what to know that. He might want to use them for something.

"I'm waiting, Severus," Voldemort said calmly.

"The yellow potion has the ability to give your body more power and energy, My Lord," Snape began, "but it might also give you short bursts of energy, but leave you in a weakened state if it is not brewed perfectly, or it may have an effect on your mind. It has the base of another potion that can separate a person into the many aspects of their personality."

I was very interested in that. If Snape could brew a potion that could spilt someone's personality, then…

"The other potion has never been brewed before. It has existed in theory for centuries, but there is no way to tell for certain if it will have the effect that was described unless with test it on someone."

"I want to see the first potion," Voldemort ordered, "I can tell if it was brewed right, or if you, Severus, are afraid to see Lord Voldemort at his true power once again."

"My Lord," Snape began, "there is nothing that I haven't wished for more fondly then to see you crush all who oppose you."

That was true enough. Snape uses Occlumency against Voldemort, but sometimes he had caught a glimpse of whether he's lying or not.

Voldemort smirked slightly in response.

"My Lord," Malfoy said, taking advantage of the silence to give his report, "I have received word that Harry Potter was attacked by dementors…but I know that it was not on your orders…"

"Interesting…continue."

"Also, Durmstrang has suffered from an unexplained fire, and much of their records have been damaged along with a great deal of the school. Many of the students fled the fire and are still at large. Some of the records that were burnt might have shone where the traitor Karkarof fled to."

"That means nothing. I have little interest in him now," Voldemort told them, "Did Potter survive?"

"Yes,"

"Good…I wanted to finish him myself."

Hear that, Potter? You're going to be killed by Voldemort personally. He considers that a great honor.

"Severus, show me the potion," Voldemort said rounding back on Snape.

For a minute he hesitated.

"You heard me, Severus."

Snape nodded and reached into his robes.

"The other potion is downstairs," he said, producing a small vial with a bright, sunshine yellow potion in it.

Voldemort took the potion and examined it, but before he could say anything else, some of the other Death Eaters who had been summoned for this meeting Apparated into the room, and walked through the doors.

Avery, Wormtail (who was staggering), Crabbe, and Rookswood each preformed the ceremonial greeting, and stood in their appropriate places. Voldemort looked at all of them without one emotion on his face.

"Where are Knot, Goyle, and Lenore?" he asked evenly.

At that moment, Knot appeared in the room.

"My Lord," he gasped out after clumsily going through the greeting, "Harry Potter was attacked by dementors!"

"I know," Voldemort said, "There are more important matters to-"

"My Lord," Goyle slurred appearing and giving a hasty greeting, "Potter's been-"

"Attacked by dementors," Voldemort said in an increasingly dangerous voice, "I don't care-"

"My Lord," Lenoir said, without waiting to greet anyone, "Potter's been-"

"Avada Kadavra!"

And that was the end of Lenoir.

"If someone so much as peeps…" Voldemort whispered. He was mad, he was using modern phrases.

_Peep_, I said.

That was strange. Normally, I couldn't do that. He must have been weaker or more angry then I thought.

The mental blast that greeted that word would have killed me, if he could have. All it did was leave me unable to do anything, even really think straight.

"If we are through with interruptions," Voldemort said calmly.

There wasn't a sound.

"Good, Severus, the potion is well brewed, you have the Dark Lord's gratitude," Voldemort said, removing the cork and taking a deep drink of the potion, "The fire at Durmstrang means nothing to us. It is only one more thing to keep the Ministry of Magic occupied. They are already doing their best to say that Potter is lying. Lucius, how are your efforts in the Ministry coming?"

"I am no closer to the Department of Mysteries then I was at our last meeting, but I have been able to use my influence to further discredit Potter," Malfoy told them.

"Work harder, Malfoy," Snape muttered, "we need that prophecy."

Oh, yeah, that. Voldemort seems to think that there is a prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. I know that he's been sending any Death Eater that has any kind of connection with the Ministry of Magic to find it. From what I know, it's something to due with Potter and how he's supposed to defeat Voldemort. I'm not sure how. After all, I can't leave this body.

The Death Eaters continued to talk about the prophecy. Wormtail slurred out some words that might have had something to do with how much he missed his hand, but no one paid too much attention. Malfoy and Snape were giving one another looks of something close to hatred. It was rather ironic since Snape was Mini Mal's godfather. I guess the two had had a falling out…

Voldemort continued talking about his prophecy, and everyone knew better then to not pay attention. People who were caught daydreaming or thinking too much were subjected to 'Crucio'.

I was starting to feel…strange. Not like I-am-the-only-person-who-actually-finds-Polka-cool more of the my-stomach-feels-like-I-have-a-hole-in-it kind of strange. I hadn't felt much of anything for a long time, so I noticed it right away. It wasn't the same feeling that I got from restraining Voldemort. That was painful. This was simply weird feeling.

I really wanted Voldemort to shut up so that I could think about what was happening. He was glaring at his Death Eaters. Wormtail had just said something stupid, and I was thinking of just killing him. His red eyes were really glowing now.

Wait…

If I was in his head, or he was in my head…how could I tell what his eyes were doing?

-------

_This is all I could think of for the first chapter. I hope that it's been good. I really enjoyed Tom's point of view. It's refreshing for some odd reason. _

_Also, for all those who are feeling inspired at the moment, I have a challenge for you:_

_The Split Challenge:_

_Summery: AU HBP After drinking a experimental potion, Draco Malfoy is split into two people because of the two sides of his personality. The first has every one of Draco's memories, and all of his normal personality traits, pride, ambition, ruthlessness. The second has no memory of anything, and retains all of the personality traits that he subdued kindness, bravery, open-mindedness . How will this effect the outcome of Voldemort's order to kill Dumbledore?_

_Rules: This can end anyway you want_

_There can be no slash _

_The rating cannot be above T_

_The pairings can be anything you want (other then slash)_

_If you choose to take up this challenge please E-mail me and send me a link. I will definitely read it._

_Tell me what you think!_


	2. The Great Escape

_I changed the main paring, but I don't think any one cares. I really like this story, so I don't care what anyone is going to say to me about it, I'm going to continue it no matter what!_

_I've been busy since reading the seventh book, but it doesn't really change anything that I write. I'm one of those 'canon smanon' people. After all, I'm writing this. _

_------- _

I had no idea what was happening. For a moment I just stared at the seen that was unfolding in front of me. Voldemort had decided to torture Wormtail for the fun of it, Snape was looking like he was glad it wasn't him, Malfoy was keeping his face completely blank, Crabbe and Goyle didn't look like they were even thinking, and Nott Avery and Rookswood all looked like they were enjoying the scene of Wormtail begin tortured to near insanity. No one seemed to notice me.

I tried to move forward and found myself slowly moving behind Voldemort.

I was moving!

I know that this doesn't sound like a major feat, but to me, it was a miracle. I hadn't been able to move for fifty years and, after that, any kind of motion was something to think about.

For some reason, I was really clear headed. I had thought before about what would happen if I could move by myself, and I had thought that I would be too busy gloating over that fact that I could move again to do anything. Suddenly, now that I was faced with hat situation, I found myself calm and logical. I was excited, yes, but for some reason even my excitement felt removed from me. Sort of like I was watching someone else who had been trapped in Voldemort's head for fifty years.

I looked around, another achievement, and watched Voldemort place his wand back in his pocket. I mentally blinked, at that moment I didn't seem to have eye lids, and looked at the wand. Technically, it was my wand. I wondered if I could touch it. After all, I was moving, who could say what I could do.

I reached for it, and noticed that I seemed to be made of very thin smoke that was at that moment enveloping around the wand to no real effect. That was why no one had seen me. There was no way that smoke was going to grab that wand, and although smoke really didn't need a wand, I really didn't want Voldemort to have it if there was anything that I could do about it.

I stared at the wand as much as a wisp of smoke is can stare at anything. This was going to be a challenge. There had to be a way to get that wand without Voldemort noticing. He was too busy talking to Avery about what he was doing and didn't seem too interested in much else.

I reached out mentally, trying to use magic instead. It was probably the most painful thing that I had ever done in my life, or whatever this would be considered. It was like my whole body was on fire, from the inside out. For a moment I noticed that the wand had not only moved but had fallen to the floor, it slipped into a large, wandsized hole that seemed to be there for no other reason but to be inconvenient.

I cursed mentally and tried to go after it. Since I was made of smoke at the moment, it was fairly easy, but I was starting to get the feeling that something else was happening. Although I was happy to have anything happen to me, I didn't want anything interesting to happen while I was in a room with Voldemort and his supporters.

As I slipped through the crack I heard Snape talking.

"How do you feel, My Lord?"

There was a pause.

"I feel no stronger, but a certain headache seems to have ceased," Voldemort said sounding thoughtful, "That wasn't what the potion was meant to do, but…I am pleased all the same…"

"If all he did was make a headache cure-" Crabbe, or maybe Goyle, started.

"Silence, fool," Voldemort hissed.

The fool shut up.

The place I was in was dark at first, but after looking around for a few minutes, a light began to glow around me. I realized why very quickly, I wasn't exactly smoke anymore. I had hands. I couldn't see myself, but I appeared to have a hazy outline of a body.

I also appeared to have robes on. That was good. I really didn't want to escape naked. For one thing, it was really cold out, from what I had heard, and people would have some questions to ask me if I walked around nude

I looked down and picked up my want that was lying at my feet.

I could feel it.

Another thing that I doubt anyone will understand is that I hadn't actually felt anything for fifty years. Because that Voldemort was in charge of my mind I didn't have any control over my senses. I could see out of his eyes and hear with his ears, but I couldn't smell, taste, or feel. I had become fairly used to by this time, but suddenly feeling something even as simple was a wand was enough to make me feel somewhat euphoric.

I held up my wand, lighted it, and looked around. I wasn't too worried about the Under Age Use of Magic at the moment. After all, who would? Later, I realized that the Trace that is put on young Wizards when they go to school wasn't on me anymore. After all, Voldemort, who had my real body, was of age (obviously), and I hadn't had a change to have it put on me.

I was in a small room full of storage equipment. I supposed that it was where anything that wasn't in current use to the Death Eaters went. It was dirty, and dusty. Even though I could see signs that someone had been in there recently, I started to get the feeling that I was about to sneeze, another novelty, but not something that I wanted to experience with Voldemort and a bunch of Death Eaters above me. There were some shelves along the walls that had some old picture frames (deserted) and some old bottles and caldrons. A few spider webs fell from the caldrons, so most things hadn't been touched in a while. On a small table, there were signs that things had been moved. The dust had been wiped in some areas, and it looked like there had been things on the table that weren't there anymore.

I walked over to the table and looked down. There was only one object there now. A vial of a deep blue liquid that would fit into my pocket that Snape most likely had put there for storage purposes.

That must have been the other potion that Snape was talking about.

He had seemed very unsure about Voldemort using it, almost like there might be something wrong with it. While I would love to see Voldemort use a defective potion, I had the feeling that this one wasn't for Voldemort. It was probably something to do with some plot or other.

I picked the potion up and stared at my hand. It was becoming more and more solid by the second. This was both really good and really bad. It was good because I was slowly gaining a body. It was bad because I was going to be trapped in a house full of Death Eaters. I was still transparent and hopefully I could manage to go through things. If I couldn't do it, I would have a problem.

I looked around frantically. There had to be a way out. There was one door that probably led upstairs to where the Death Eaters and Voldemort were and another that looked dirty and unused, which probably led to a closet. There was also one window that was so filthy that no light went through.

That window was probably the only change that I had. I shoved the potion in the pocket of the robes and ran to it and tried to force it open. At first nothing happened other that I was quickly becoming very solid, and I was starting to panic then the glass began to move slightly.

With a crack that must have caught everyone's attention in the house, the window opened.

The voices from upstairs stopped and then I heard them start again.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked.

There were sounds of people moving from upstairs and footsteps coming very close to me. Shoats to other Death Eaters who seemed to have appeared, and some staggering, I assume from Wormtail.

For a split second I was frozen, and my mind was a complete blank. The footsteps were on the stairs before I blinked and looked at the window. I was still somewhat transparent, and I didn't really have time to think about what I was doing. Without a glace back, I jumped through the window.

And my foot got stuck.

Thankfully, it was in the part of the window that was open. It looked like I had been right to open that window. It would have been really painful to have it become stuck in the actual glass.

This was not the time to have my foot stunk in a window. As I tried to wriggle it lose, I watched with horror as the door handle was moved. There was only one thing that I could think of doing at that moment. I drew my wand and pointed it at the glass.

"REDUCTO!" I yelled.

The glass shattered instantly, and pieces flew towards the opening door, causing some surprised yells and curses from the other side. I scrambled up and started to run clumsily. Snape's potion might have giving me a body, but it sure didn't give me one that was in shape. In fact, it felt like the body had never been used much before. I guess I was lucky not to have one without any muscles and have to learn how to walk again.

The house was surrounded by a forest that I hadn't noticed before. I guess I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings anymore. Maybe some part of me had given up ever really needing the knowledge. Now I was really regretting not paying attention.

I guess the only time it really matters is the one time that you're not.

I stumbled into the forest. It would take the Death Eaters a while to open the door, wade through the glass, get to the window, realize that I'm gone, apparate into the yard and split up to find me. As long as I didn't make too much noise, there was a chance they wouldn't catch up.

I could summon the Knight Bus, but I didn't have any money. They didn't take hitchhikers, and I didn't think they would believe that I was being chased by Death Eaters. If they did find me while I was trying to convince them, it wouldn't really help. After all, we'd all be dead. I did know how to aparate, but I wasn't sure I had the energy to at the moment. That and I read somewhere that the chances of Splinching increase by twenty percent in times of emotional stress. If running through the woods, being chased by Death Eaters wasn't emotional stress, I didn't know what was.

I stumbled along as fast as I could. I was starting to hear the sounds of the Death Eaters. The only thing that was keeping me from being seen were the trees.

There had to be a way out of this.

I had to get lucky once in my life.

Had I just gotten a body to be killed?

I heard a sound behind me and darted behind a tree. Wormtail staggered into my view. I was staring around blearily and didn't seem to really know what was going on. He slumped down and stared at the trees. Fishing in his robe, he took out a flask of what I hoped was something alcoholic and strong.

"I used to have a hand," he muttered to himself, "A good hand, one that I was really attached too…"

That would make sense…it was a hand. He would be attached to it…in all meanings of that word…

"Then," he continued to no one, "I lost it. It left me."

No, you cut it off.

"I…I…" he took a swig of the booze and started to sway.

This was wonderful!

"I…miss my hand…I…I…" Wormtail muttered as he swayed.

Suddenly he collapsed into a heap of robes. I was silent for a moment, but poked my head out when I heard him snoring. I walked over to him and looked down. There was a bit of drool coming out of his mouth as he snored. I leaned down and searched his pockets. There was a small bag of Sickles, his wand, and an extra bottle of booze.

I relieved him of the Sickles.

Wormtail let out a grunt, and more drool came out. I had the urge to write something rude on the ground next to him, but I didn't want the Death Eaters to know that I had come this way. It was obvious that they didn't think that I would go this way. Which meant that if I had wanted to choose a direction that was farthest from civilization, this was probably it.

I straightened and walked off in the direction that I was going at first. It would be a while before they looked for Wormtail since they would have split up, looking for me. If I didn't leave a tail of deep footprints or broken twigs, I might manage to make it to a point where I could summon the Knight Bus.

I needed a plan.

I had a body, I was free of Voldemort, and I needed to find a way to kill him. I had no real idea what I looked like. Black hair had fallen into my face while I was running, so I assumed that I had black hair, and I felt like I had before Voldemort. I was shorter then Voldemort was and my skin did not seem to have scales. I assumed that I could walk around in public without scaring people.

Then again, I could have Voldemort's face…

I touched my nose, which was where I would have expected it to be. I had a nose, and since Voldemort didn't I could safely assume that I didn't look like him.

Next, how old was I?

I had the feeling that my body might have been constructed from my memories, but I wasn't sure. I knew that I didn't have grey hear, so I wasn't sixty something.

I wished I could see my face. It would make things so much easier.

I picked up my pace. I was getting far enough away to start being a little less cautious. Apparently the last thing that Voldemort was expecting was someone to find him. Then again, we were fairly close to Durmstrang which meant that Voldemort didn't have to worry quite as much. Voldemort wasn't so much of a problem in this area, and the English Ministry of Magic was working so hard on making Potter and Dumbledore look like they were lying or senile.

The forest was starting to clear and I heard, in the distance, the sound of the Muggle cars.

Voldemort wouldn't what to get this close to Muggles. If they saw him, everything he was working for would blow up in his face.

Now, I had to think about my name.

I couldn't go around introducing myself as Tom Riddle. A lot of people knew the connection. I had to go back to England. I didn't know Bulgarian, other then the word that means 'gelded hegoat', and I don't really like to use it around people who know the language.

I leaned down on the ground and wrote: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

_I am Lord Voldemort_ passed through my mind.

Well, that did it, I wasn't going to rearrange the letters of my name.

I started down at my name and thought. Tom was the abbreviation of Thomas. (My mother didn't seem to know that, but anyways…) Thomas was known as the twin in the New Testiment…Twin…

Gemini meant twin, and it was a name that I had heard wizards use.

Marvolo…what did Marvolo mean anyways? What was my mother thinking… I was close to Durmstrang, so I should pass as a student there. Therefore I need a Russian/Bulgarian/Slavic kind of name…Mikhail…that was for Michael…

Close enough.

Riddle…was really good for making jokes (I'm serious about that, if I never heard another 'Riddle' pun it would be too soon), but I hadn't ever thought of anything interesting in it. A riddle was a conundrum, which most people didn't even know was a word, and if I was Russian I would say Conundrumivich, meaning: son of Riddle.

I straightened and walked towards the sounds of the cars. Finally, when it was starting to get dark, and I was really getting tired, I saw the road.

I held out my right hand and waited.

With a bang and force that almost sent me sprawling to the ground, the violently purple triple decker bus appeared. It stopped in front of me, and a pimply Wizard about twenty or so jumped out.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, the emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard, my name is Stan Shanpike, and I shall be your conductor his evening," he said in a well rehearsed sort of way.

He lead me to one of the beds and I paid him some of what was in Wormtail's bag. As a passed a window, I got a good look at myself.

It looked like I had never been possessed. A tall, fifteen year old boy looked back at me. Pale skin contrasted well with night black hair, and I brushed the bangs out of black eyes. I was wearing a nondescript looking robe that looked slightly shabby.

Honestly, even when I have a body constructed from my memory, I still wear second hand clothes.

"Where did you say you were going Mr…" Stan asked.

"Conundrumivich…Con. Gemini Con," I said, "I'm going to the English Ministry of Magic."

"Drumstrang student are you?" he asked, "had to transfer cuz the school burnt down?"

It burnt down? I only knew there was a fire. This is going to work better then I thought. No records to fake.

"Something like that," I said.

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_And this is where I end. _

_If anyone has any suggestions for things that I could do, please tell me. I'm always open to new thoughts. I hope that everyone has enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Please Review!_


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